Red-Haired
by Xanthophlobic
Summary: A young man and a red-haired girl meet. In a bus. In Scotland. What are the chances? Why are they even there? And why did Charlie Brown run away?


**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Peanuts and most of the characters in this story. Charles M. Schulz created them. This disclaimer applies to the rest of the fanfiction.

 **WARNINGS:** There's some minor swearing, and some depression-related stuff.

* * *

 ** _POV:_** _Third Person_

* * *

"Um, excuse me?"

The somewhat-little red-haired teenager looked up from her book.

"Do I happen to know you?" Asked the male teenager, standing in the aisle. She slowly looked him up and down. He had springy brown hair, but it looked like there was some blonde in there as well. He was surprisingly tall, and wore brown shorts with brown sneakers.

Somehow, the only thing the girl found remotely familiar about him was his face - he wore an uncertain look, no smile – and his shirt was yellow and had a black ziz-zag line running accross the middle of it.

However, after quickly looking through her memory, she couldn't remember seeing this person at all – maybe she had just seen someone with the same top?

"Uhm… I'm really sorry, but I don't… think I do…" She said, trying to sound friendly, but it came out more unsure. Did she know him? That uncertain look did seem familiar as well…

The male teenager just shrugged. "Alrighty, thanks anyway. You probably just remind me of some friends I, uh, had…"

The young red-haired woman raised an eyebrow. _Had?_ She was about to press him on the subject, but decided against it, and buried her face back into the book.

Moments later, the two-seater bus they were in went into gear, and started moving. She quickly glanced up again, just to see if he was still there.

He was – except he seemed to be staring at the front, deep in thought. She wondered why he had just stood there, instead of sitting down.

She pushed herself up a bit - not as much as to stand, but enough to peer over the seat in front of her to look around the bus. As she glanced around, she realised that the entire bus was full. She had come onto the bus at an earlier stop, and had been buried in her book the whole time that she hadn't noticed the bus fill up.

There happened to be only one seat remaining – which was the seat next to her. However, that seat was currently occupied with her own green backpack.

She debated with herself; should she ask the young man if he'd like to sit?

 _Well, he seems like a good person._ Spoke one part of her mind.

 _But he's also a complete stranger that muttered about friends he "had"._ Spoke another part.

 _He's kind of cute. Just a bit._ Spoke a third part, which she immediately pushed away.

A second later, the bus suddenly stopped at a red light. The young man standing shouted " _WOAH!_ ", and fell onto the chair next to the young woman, face-first – just missing her lime dress, which she quickly tucked in more towards herself. Most of the people in the bus looked over to see what the commotion was.

"Uhm…" The red-haired girl tried to help him up, but he was already standing again before she could even unbuckle her seatbelt.

"I'm, er, still getting used to standing on buses." He muttered to her, blushing lightly.

She smiled. "It's alright…" _Okay, time to ask…_

"Would, uh, would you like to sit here?"

He looked at her surprised.

"Really?" He asked.

"Well… yeah, of course." She replied, somewhat shy herself. "Come, uh, sit down." She moved down her green backpack to her feet.

He grinned, and plopped down on the fairly soft seat. "Thanks! Like, seriously, thanks so much! No-one has ever really done this sort of stuff for me."

"Um… anytime!" She said, quickly looking down, back into to her book before he noticed her light blush. Immediately after that, she realised that it was stupid to hide a thing, so she coughed and put her book into her lap.

"So… where are you heading?" She asked, attempting to make some sort of light conversation.

"Uhm…" He pondered for a moment. "What's the last stop on this station, again?"

She frowned. "…the stop. You forgot it?"

"…yeah…" He said, rubbing his hair.

"The stop is Maxwell Street. We were just at… Bell Street, I think."

"Near the Domino's Pizza place thing?"

"Yeah, I think Maxwell Street is right next to it."

"Alrighty. Cool. Thanks."

They sat in silence for a minute, before the boy asked a question, also trying to make conversation.

"So… when are you getting off? If you don't mind me asking, of course." He quickly added after.

"Um…" _Do I tell him? I guess it doesn't matter in the end, he would see me get off with him._

"The last stop. Same as you."

"Oh. Uh, alright."

"…so, you aren't from around here?"

The boy rapidly looked around the bus, as if someone else was watching him, and then looked back at her."How do you know?"

"You don't sound Scottish."

He pursed his lips. "Well, neither do you."

"Well, then I'm not from Scotland, am I?"

"…then where are you from?"

"Uh…" _Crap._ "I'm from America. What about you?"

"I'm from America as well."

"Oh! Really?"

"…yeah. What state are you from?"

She bit her lip. "Um… I'd rather not say."

"Ah. Alrighty. That's fine."

Again, they sat in silence for a bit.

"So… why are you here?" Asked the boy.

"Oh. My family moves often. Like, a lot. I've went from America, to Canada, back to America, and now I'm here. It's because of my mother and father's jobs. They both work in an investigation business. I'm fine with it, really – it's sorta hard to make new friends, but it gets easier. I want to get into things like journalism and game design, so moving around doesn't really affect on what I want to do."

"Game design?"

"Yeah, with the computers and stuff. I'm learning code and… well, never mind. It's sorta complicated."

"Huh." He responded. _Was that even a response?_ , she thought to herself.

"So… why are you here? She asked him.

"Er… well, I met up with a friend here, and I'm currently living with her. For a bit. Sorta like I'm an exchange student, except remove the word student." He said, somewhat reticent.

"Oh. Um… alright. You look a bit young to be living with someone else…?"

He shrugged. "I had nowhere else to go, and she let me stay there. Oh, and I'm fifteen. Well, I'm fifteen next month – I don't think that's _that_ young. I'm also used to living at other places other than my actual home." He rabled.

"Uh, Okay. I'm, uh, fifteen as well. I've been here for about six months. When did you come here?"

"…um… recently. I guess. A week or so ago?"

 _Wow. Really new._

"Which school are you going to?"

"Uh, I'm getting homeschooled."

"…oh. Alright."

 _Well, I suck at conversations._

The girl went back to reading her book, while they boy sat and thought about what to say to her next. However, at that moment, the bus screeched to a stop.

People shuffled around. A lot of people went off, and a few came on. There were now lots more empty seats.

The male teenager coughed, and unbuckled his seatbelt. "I guess I can just move to another seat now-"

"Uh, you don't have too…" She said quietly. He raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Yeah! I sorta need to practice my conversation skills."

He smiled. "So do I. Alright." He buckled his seatbelt again. "Um… why are you stopping at Maxwell Street?"

"I have to get there before 8:00pm, because that's when Leo's Fish and Chips shop there closes."

"…you're going to bring fish and chips on a bus ride?"

She smiled. "No, I'm going to ask for a job there. I was near there a couple of days ago and they were accepting job applications."

He stared at her blankly.

"Uh, what?" She asked, slightly confused.

"There's… they're accepting job applications?"

"Um, yeah. Why?"

He continued staring at her blankly, and then he turned towards nothing.

He then sighed.

This single sigh sparked a memory in the Little Red-Haired Girl's mind.

Before she could make a comment on it, however, her thought process was interrupted. "I've been looking for jobs _everywhere_ … and it turns out there's one available five minutes away from me. That's just like me!" He said, more to himself than to her.

"Would you mind if I went with you? Or if I went tomorrow, by myself, or something? I don't want to be copying you or anything."

She hesitated. "Well… yeah, I guess. Why are you stopping there?"

"I need to drop a letter off at the Post Office there, and then I can just walk to my friend's house. I'll probably go to the Fish and Chips place tomorrow."

She was about to respond when the bus, once again, screeched to a stop.

"Our stop." She muttered. She picked up her light green bag, which was easy to carry – there wasn't much heavy items in it.

Most of the people stood up, and got off the bus. The male teenager thanked the bus driver as they both got off.

They both stood at the sidewalk, near the bus stop, as the bus drove away. "So… uh… thanks for talking to me." She muttered, shyly.

"No problem." He said, shrugging. "You seem like a nice, uh, a nice person."

She tried to conceal her blush. "Thanks…"

"So… is there a way I could keep in contact with you? I, uh, don't have much friends here, and I sorta need to remember what it feels like to talk to other people." He said, the sentence coming from nowhere.

"Uh…"

"I don't have any of those new mobile phone things – but I could give you my address or something…"

"Sure!" She said, trying not to sound too eager. He smiled, and felt his pockets and brought out a pencil. He felt around his pockets some more, and turned up with nothing.

"Er… do you happen to have some paper?"

The girl looked through her bag, and pulled up some light red paper. "Ah…" _Crap. Wrong paper._ She thought to herself, embarrassed.

"Red paper?" He asked, smiling.

"Yeah… my family likes to buy light red paper." She said, giving the paper to him.

He quickly scribbled down the address, and gave it back to her.

"Thanks!" She said, and suddenly remembered why she had stopped here in the first place. "I, uh, should go to the Fish and Chips place."

"Oh! Yeah, sorry for keeping you up. If you don't mind me asking, though… why the coloured paper?"

She laughed shakily. "Probably because my whole family is red-haired. Even my grandmother is! She's still in Minnesota, though. Haven't seen her for a while. But, uh, I gotta go! I'll send you a letter or something!" She said, waving.

"See you!" He said to her, as she turned and ran to the fish and chips shop.

He stood there as she ran into the distance, out of sight. He chuckled, slight surprised with himself.

"How did I manage to make another friend here… and a red-haired one, no less?" Charlie Brown muttered to himself, turned around, and started walking towards Morag's house.

…

But then he stopped.

And he realised something.

"Red-haired…" He whispered to himself, and whipped around.

The girl was long gone now, but Charlie remembered what she had said.

 _"…_ _whole family is red-haired. Even my grandmother is! She's still in Minnesota, though…"_

"It can't be…" He said, but he remember what she had.

 _Red hair. Green dress. Green backpack. It's what she used to have as well._ He thought. _But it can't be her… what are the chances?_

He shook his head, in denial with his instincts. _It just can't be…_ He turned around, and started truding towards Morag's house again.

Even if it was her, he wouldn't be able to ask her.

He couldn't remember her name.

…

All of it had happened rather quickly, and Heather didn't even have any time to think.

She had taken the address from the boy, went to the fish and chips shop, been accepted pretty much immediately (the store literally opened up a month ago, and they had nearly zero staff), had walked home, and was currently lying in her bed, thinking.

And, right before she went to sleep, she wondered;

 _How did I go through all of that without asking him his name?_

 **…** …

 ** _One Day Later..._**

 **…** …

"Are you gonna talk to 'im, Charlie?" Asked Morag.

Charlie sighed once more, staring at the telephone. "I need to remember her name, Morag."

Morag pursed her lips. "But Charlie-"

"I know what I said. I forgot her – and I didn't even want to remember her name. I don't think I ever did learn it in the first place. But if this is _actually_ her… I mean, who else in the world has a red-haired grandmother in Minnesotta, and has moved around? The way she described it… seemed to be exactly the same thing happened to the Little Red-Haired Girl I knew. She had moved away from Minnesota, then came back, and then left again. It just makes sense…"

"But at the same time, it don't…" She muttered. It was midday, and the two fifteen-year-olds were contemplating what to do next. They sat at Morag's table, as the light from the window flew into the room. They had both only just woken up.

Her mother had a sore headache, as usual, and was lying in bed. Her father was away on some sort of working/business trip. Neither of her parents knew Charlie was there.

"I, uh, told her of this address."

"Yeah, I figured. What else could you have said? 'Let's meet at the Fish and Chips shop?'?

"That… uh, was actually my first idea, because I didn't have paper on me. Luckily, she did…

"…and that paper resulted in you _apparently_ figuring out who she 'actually is'." Morag made quotation marks with her fingers. "Seriously, what the heck are the chances? Her grandmother was red-haired, and she comes from Minnesota? So what?"

Charlie stayed soundless for a minute as Morag placed toast in the toaster.

"Look, Charlie, why is this girl so important? Wasn't she one of the reasons you ran away in the first place?"

He sighed. "It wasn't just that…" He muttered under his breath.

"And plus," She continued, " _How_ can she be so important to you if you can't even remember her _name_?"

"I can't really... explain it. It was an up and down thing. I liked her, then sorta came to my senses, and then loads of other shi- stuff came in, and I haven't thought about her much at all for the past few years, really."

"Right." She grumbled.

 ** _VROOM!_**

"…what was that?" Asked Charlie.

"The mailman. Every Saturday, this one zooms through. He's loud, but efficient. He probably left us some mail…"

Charlie looked bewildered. "B-but he didn't even stop!"

Morag smiled. "As I said, fast _and_ efficient. You've only been here for a week – but you'll get used to it. I'll be back!"

Charlie waited patiently as Morag came back with a single envelope.

"Nothing from your other thirty pen-pals?" He said, smiling.

"Oh, shut up, you." She fumbled with the letter. "Hm… I don't who sent this…" She tried looking through the paper, by holding it up to the light.

"It's… handwritten."

"Handwritten?" Charlie asked, surprised, with a raised eyebrow. Most people used a computer now.

She ripped it open, and found only a single piece of paper. She started reading it aloud;

 _"_ _Dear Morag,_

 _My name is Linus Van Pelt, and I-"_

She frowned in the middle of her sentence. "Wait."

Charlie blinked. "No. No way. No freaking way…"

And then he grinned.

"The smart bastard."

 **…** …

* * *

 **…** …

"You know what you are, Charlie Brown? You're piece of nothing! You're a piece of nothing, Charlie Brown!"

Charlie Brown didn't even bother looking up. It's not like he hadn't heard worse.

"And, as usual, you aren't invited to the party!" Violet walked away, laughing. Patty followed her, attempting to laugh with her, but also looked at Charlie Brown, concerned.

Charlie Brown continued eating his moldy sandwich. The last day of school was over in about an hour and a half. Although lots of people were excited, the school didn't make it out as a big event – it's not like it would be as important as their _last_ last day of school.

Violet, as usual, had planned a party to celebrate that it was their final day of this supposed torture. People always went to it, and people would always have a good time.

The only person that had never even been to one of their parties was Charlie Brown.

The last time he was invited was when he was 6, and even then the girls had changed their mind – probably because Charlie Brown had forced them. He had said that he would blow up their houses, or something like that.

He silently laughed at the memory. When was the last time he had acted like that? It had been ages! Six years!

But Charlie Brown had never really acted that way since. He hadn't really been happy at all since then.

He sort of fell in love with Peggy Jean? He couldn't remember what that felt like. At this point, he didn't really care.

The bell rang again. Charlie Brown sighed, sat up, and walked to class.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I haven't _forgotten_ about my _Forgotten_ fanfiction, don't worry, (See what I did there?) I just decided to take a small break.

When I was watching Inside Out a week or so ago, there was a trailer for the new Peanuts movie. I check online that day, and they had revealed the face of the Little Red-Haired Girl. From that, I thought of some fanfiction ideas about her, and I had to type it up.

This is also sort of a "revealing" fanfiction – it doesn't reveal everything at the start, about who the characters are, why they are there, and et cetera. I'm hoping that I didn't make them too OOC either…

So yeah!

(Cover is coming soon! And maybe chapter names. And I'll probably change the summary. And maybe even the title. ...this Author's Note is way too long, sorry about that.)

If you didn't bother reading the above, then at least read this;

I've made a new Fanfiction Forum! It's called The "Peanuts Movie Discussion" Forum, and you can go there and post your own threads about the Peanuts Movie!

So, uh, yeah! Go check that out!

Thanks for reading – and remember to leave a review! (But only if you want to!)


End file.
